Читать книгу Sarah’s Story: An emotional family saga that you won’t be able to put down - Lynne Francis - Страница 17

All heads swung round to see who had entered the chapel and for the second time that day Sarah was aware of the reaction of the person beside her. Joe had stiffened and shaded his eyes against the bright sunlight flooding the room in order to take a better look at whoever had entered. She felt him relax as it became apparent that the visitor was a young man who looked flustered and was making apologetic motions with his hands as he slid quickly into a pew near the back of the chapel.

The minister cleared his throat and Sarah, Joe and his best man turned around to face him. Sarah found herself distracted; who was this young man who had just arrived and why was he here, an uninvited guest at her wedding?

Joe had to nudge her to make her responses and so it was in a kind of daze that Sarah found herself married and on the receiving end of congratulations from the best man, whose name she still didn’t know, then ushered out into the sunshine by the minister who clearly had other things he wished to attend to on a Wednesday in the working week.

Sarah was aware of the young man hovering in the background as Joe introduced his best man as Alfred, then took both her hands in his, looked her deep in the eyes and told her that he must leave, that he was already running late with the cargo that he must deliver. Alfred nodded his head in vigorous confirmation of his words.

Sarah had known that this was going to happen but she still couldn’t help feeling a stab of bitter disappointment. The lack of a wedding celebration after the build-up of tension over the last few days felt like a major let-down.

Joe took her head between his hands and kissed her hard on the lips. ‘I’ll be back with you as soon as I return,’ he said. ‘And my thoughts will be with you every moment I am away. Sarah Bancroft – my own wife!’ and he laughed as if he found it hard to believe. Then he kissed her again, nodded in acknowledgement to Ada and strode away, Alfred scurrying to catch up.

Sarah stood and watched him leave, feeling hot tears well up. She willed him to look back but her concentration on his departing back view was broken by an exclamation from Ada.

‘You don’t say! Sarah, did you hear that?’

Reluctantly, Sarah tore her eyes away from Joe and turned towards her grandmother.

‘This young man has come all the way from Manchester at your mother’s behest. She couldn’t be here today, as you know, but she has asked Daniel to return with news of the day.’

Sarah took in the young man’s appearance: he was as smartly dressed as she suspected his pocket would allow and his freckled countenance was friendly and open. His dark brown eyes seemed to view her with some sympathy and on impulse she said, ‘Why, then you must come and celebrate with us and share whatever news you have. As you can see I have been abandoned already on my wedding day and so we must make our own entertainment.’

Daniel began to protest. ‘I came but to witness the event and I must apologise for the lateness of my arrival and the manner of my entry. I’m unfamiliar with the area and found myself by mistake at the church in the village rather than the chapel. Now, I’m afraid, I must set out again on my return journey.’

‘Nonsense!’ Sarah, thwarted in her wish to celebrate her marriage with her new husband, had now seized upon a different plan. ‘You must at least take tea with us before your return. Let it not be said that the Randalls –’ she paused ‘– and the Bancrofts lacked manners and sent a traveller back on his homeward journey without sustenance of any kind.’

Ada looked a little bemused by the turn of events but lent weight to Sarah’s invitation and promised that means would be found to help convey him to Nortonstall later that afternoon so that he might journey onwards by train to Manchester. So Daniel found himself borne along on a wave of Sarah’s nervous excitement, back through Northwaite, where she was this time oblivious to the outright curiosity of any villagers whom they passed. Ada called in on Mrs Sykes to see whether her husband, the carter, would come by and collect Daniel in good time for his journey and then they made their way back to the cottage.

Ada and Sarah made tea and buttered slices of fruit bread, plying Daniel with questions all the while. How was Mary? And Jane? And Ellen? Was there any improvement in their health? How did Daniel know the family? Where did he work? Where was Sarah’s father, William?

Daniel appeared embarrassed and clearly reluctant to impart too much in answer to the queries. Sarah had a suspicion that he was focusing on describing his own work to prevent further probing. He explained that he lived in the same lodgings as Mary and her daughters and worked at the same mill, but his skill with machinery had kept him away from the mill floor and in the office, where he was engaged in working with the owner on some new designs to improve the efficiency of the waterwheel. It was on the pretext of visiting a mill in the area, which was known to have recently made major improvements in its output, that he had managed to make his visit that day.

‘But surely you will be in trouble on your return if you do not have the expected information?’ Sarah said, not a little troubled on Daniel’s behalf. She wondered also why he was so willing to undertake this journey on her mother’s behalf.

‘I was able to make the visit this morning,’ Daniel said. ‘I had fully expected to be turned away but, in fact, they were keen to show me around. It was this, and my mistake in going to the church, that caused me to be later in finding the chapel than I had intended.’

‘And the affliction affecting Mary and the children?’ Ada asked. ‘Is she receiving treatment?’

Daniel looked uncomfortable.

‘It is something that has swept through the mill and troubled the women most particularly. I think their lungs are weakened by constant exposure to the cotton dust. Mrs Gibson was perhaps not in the best of health when she fell ill and she has taken it hard.’

‘And my father?’ Sarah demanded. ‘Where is he? Can he not help?’

Daniel looked even more uncomfortable.

‘Ah, Mr Gibson no longer lives at the lodgings. I think perhaps he has gone to work at a mill on the other side of town and taken lodgings there for convenience.’ Despite his best attempts to dress up the truth, it soon became apparent that Mary had revealed less than she might have done in her most recent letter.

There was a silence while Sarah and Ada digested this news then Ada said crisply, ‘Do you mean he has left the family, Daniel? Is that what has happened?’

Daniel blushed scarlet. ‘I really couldn’t say for certain, Mrs Randall.’

‘Humph!’ Ada looked down at her plate, chasing a few crumbs around with her fingertips, then reached a decision. ‘I must go to Manchester. Sarah, you will be all right here on your own for a few days, won’t you? I think that I must see with my own eyes what is happening.’

The half-hour before the carter was due to arrive passed in a flurry of activity. Sarah tried hard to maintain polite conversation with Daniel whilst running up and down the stairs, helping Ada to pack a few things together and searching in the larder for provisions to send to her mother and sisters.

‘Why was she not more honest in her letter?’ Ada was hunting through her cupboard of remedies. ‘I could have prepared something for her if I’d had a better idea of the situation, and of their struggles. As it is, I will just have to take whatever I think may come in useful.’

Sarah barely had time to tie the remedies securely into a cloth bundle before the carter was at the door.

‘Sarah, take care.’ Ada, distracted, was tying on her bonnet as Sarah handed her another shawl for the journey. ‘I’m sorry to leave you like this but hope to be back before the week is out.’

Sarah, overwhelmed by all that had happened that afternoon, tried very hard to remember her manners. ‘Daniel, it was very nice to meet you and so good of you to have come all this way.’

‘I can assure you, the pleasure was all mine. I wish you every happiness in your marriage, Mrs Bancroft, and hope that I may be lucky enough to be in a position to visit again.’

‘Do come. Perhaps you may have cause for another visit to the mill here.’ Sarah was preoccupied, speaking half over her shoulder as she handed her grandmother’s belongings up to her while she settled herself behind the carter.

Daniel sprang up into the front seat and doffed his cap. ‘Goodbye. Goodbye,’ he called. She sensed that he wished to say more but the carter shook the reins and they were off. Sarah watched the lamp on the cart as it dwindled away into the gathering dusk and was visible no more, then she went into the kitchen and began clearing up through force of habit.

She looked out into the darkness, aware that she needed to light the lamps inside, and thought of both her husband and her grandmother somewhere out there, wending their separate ways to great cities. Now she was left totally alone on her wedding day and it seemed like a cruel blow. She sat down suddenly at the table, rested her head on her arms and burst into tears.